What If It Were Spock?
by Dawnstorm101
Summary: At the Daystrom Conference Room, what if Spock got shot instead of Pike? Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, don't own Star Trek. *Story on hiatus*
1. Chapter 1

Jim trailed off, letting Spock pick up on his thoughts. Spock did so without hesitation, and his guess was spot-on, as usual. Jim was really going to miss being on a command team with Spock. No matter their difficulties, they had always been able to follow each other's thoughts, and Spock's cool logic and Jim's fiery emotions had always balanced each other. Theirs was a bond, both in the professional and personal sense, that was impossible to match.

Or, at least, Jim had thought so.

A red glow began to fill the room. Jim turned and stood up, stepping closer for a better look. Spock, too, trailed off, and both the Vulcan and Admiral Marcus stood just before Jim spun around and shouted, "Clear the room!"

The first shots from what Jim had recognized to be Harrison's stolen ship fired almost before he finished speaking. The force of the windows exploding sent Jim flying over the table. Fear gripped him as he lost sight of Pike and Spock, but he forced it to the back of his mind as he surveyed the scene.

It was chaos. Red light glowed, green shots fired, dust and debris clouded the air. People screamed in agony and cried out in terror. An air defense team raced inside, but most were struck down, and their phaser rifles were all but useless against the ship hovering menacingly outside.

Jim darted through the chaos towards an injured woman. He recognized Bev from the _Copernicus_. She had taken a hit to the leg. A disgusting mass of dark blood marred the gleaming ivory flesh. Jim carefully tended the wound, murmuring, "You're gonna be all right, Bev."

From somewhere across the room, he heard Pike shout, "Jim!" Jim turned around and felt his heart miss a beat.

Pike, his crippled legs stretched out awkwardly behind him, had his hands planted on someone's stomach. Pike shielded the injured person as best he could with his own body, but both were horribly exposed. The injured person's head shifted just enough for Jim to make out a pale, pointed ear. Jim was sprinting over, heedless of his own safety, before he truly processed what he had seen.

He threw himself down between Harrison and his friends. "What happened?" Jim demanded. Spock's chest heaved as he struggled for breath. Green blood stained most of his front, as well as Pike's hands. His normally pale skin was almost grey from shock and blood loss. His gaze slid out of focus, his eyelids beginning to close. Jim lightly slapped his cheek until they reopened, trying to keep his terror in check in case Spock's touch telepathy was somehow still working.

"I was trying to get up, and then I noticed Harrison's ship targeting me. I thought I was going to die," Pike's voice trembled at the revelation, "and then Spock landed right in front of me and took the hit."

Jim carefully eased his hands into position and took over from Pike. "Spock, you're an idiot." Even now, Spock's eyebrow managed to rise dubiously, though he didn't speak. "Who the hell told you to start acting like me? I'm the heroic idiot, remember?"

"Un…fortunately," Spock managed to rasp.

"So this is what has to happen in order for you to gain a sense of humor?"

"You two can argue later," Pike snapped, though his tone contained tiny hints of mirth. "Jim, get Spock out of here."

Jim glanced uneasily at Pike. He couldn't get out on his own, either, and leaving him here could result in Jim losing two of the most important people in his life. He had already lost his command, his ship – he couldn't lose both of these men.

Spock sort of simplified matters. "No," he insisted weakly. "Pike first."

"Spock-"

"He's right," Jim cut in. "If I leave you here, you could get shot, and then Spock's actions will have been for nothing."

Spock looked surprised to get Jim's agreement so easily. Pike sighed heavily, indecision flickering in his gaze, before reluctantly nodding agreement. Jim lifted one hand so he could put Spock's hands on the wound.

"Don't die. That's an order."

Spock only nodded almost imperceptibly, refraining from pointing out that Jim was no longer his superior officer and therefore couldn't give him orders and expect them to be followed unconditionally. Jim pressed down on Spock's hands for a second, reluctant to leave despite his support of taking Pike first. Then he pulled Pike's arm over his shoulder and they staggered away, leaving Spock to struggle to both stay alive and under control.

His heart thundered painfully in his side. Every blast made him flinch as barely-suppressed terror threatened to overwhelm the dying half-Vulcan. He was alone again. Despite his insistence that he was fine alone, even needed to be alone occasionally, that didn't include when he was dying. The terror of being alone, contact with his girlfriend and friend cut off, as the magma roared and swallowed up the tiny island he had miraculously landed safely on surged back to the surface. Telling himself that Jim was coming back wasn't working, he was panicking, and it _hurt_-

Pressure returned to his wound. Spock sucked in a lungful of air as Jim murmured breathlessly, "I gotcha."

Jim didn't even want to contemplate the pure emotion he'd seen flooding Spock's gaze. The agony that hadn't been purely physical. The terror waiting to burst forth. The sheer relief when Jim returned. It had vanished now, so Jim shoved it to the back of his mind, focusing instead on shielding Spock from another explosion of glass. It bit into his skin like a million pinpoints of flame, but he didn't care, so long as Spock was safe. Well, safer.

Jim's hands trembled as they pulled Spock up until his head rested on Jim's shoulder. Jim tried to ignore how cold the Vulcan's ashen skin felt, how much effort each tiny, rasping breath took. With a grunt, he staggered to his feet and dragged Spock backwards and out of harm's way. Pike helped maneuver him onto the couch just outside Harrison's range of attack. Spock's only outward reaction to the movement was to start shivering almost imperceptibly.

"Don't you dare," Jim snapped, not entirely sure exactly what he meant. Spock's glazed eyes flickered towards him, more out of surprise at the harsh tone than anything. They didn't close, so Jim lifted his head to look around.

Chaos reigned in the conference room. _Is anyone even trying in there? _An abandoned phaser rifle drew his attention. Maybe…

"I've got an idea." _An insane one. But when aren't my ideas insane? _"Stay with us, Spock."

Pike slipped his hands into place. Spock made a feeble noise of protest as Jim turned towards the chaos. Jim couldn't leave him without reassurance, not like that. "Relax," he murmured, resting one green-soaked hand on the vulnerable Vulcan's shoulder, "I'll be fine."

Spock's hand twitched towards his shoulder. Jim moved his hand down to keep it still; Spock needed every ounce of strength. Spock's body trembled as he stammered, "S-sor-ry," between struggling breaths.

Jim steadied him, watching his face in confusion as he did. "What…? Wait, are you seriously doing this now?"

"J-Jim-"

"No. You're not going to die, so don't even try to give that speech. You'll be fine, you'll see Uhura again, and I… I know you're sorry."

Jim turned away. Spock didn't protest again. Pike elected to remain silent, but Jim felt two pairs of eyes tracking his progress as best they could. The former captain inhaled deeply before plunging into the chaos.

He dodged through the continuing barrage of weapons fire, snatching up the rifle he had seen. Jim didn't stop running; stopping would be suicide. Somehow, he made it to the corridor on the other side of the room and started firing at the ship. Harrison ignored him as his shots did nothing. Another idea, far more insane than shooting at the ship himself, came to him. Spinning around, his gaze landed on the panel that hid an old-fashioned fire hose. He raced to carry out his new idea, raced to get back to Spock.

The half-Vulcan in question lay trembling on the couch. Pike studied him carefully to ensure he was still conscious. Spock's eyes remained fixed on the general location where Jim had disappeared. Pike was pondering this stirring display of loyalty, though perhaps he should call it friendship, even though Vulcans claimed not to have such attachments, when the trembling became nonexistent.

His thoughts turned in a different direction when he also realized Spock's eyes were slipping shut.

"Spock," Pike snapped. His eyes remained closed. "Stay awake, Commander, that's an order. _Commander_." Nothing. Pike shook him sharply. His head only lolled limply, the hand that had reached for Jim's sliding off his chest. Pike frantically felt for a pulse. His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

There wasn't one.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the reviews/favorites/follows, guys! I had no idea this story was going to get such an enthusiastic response. It's made my past couple days. And for those of you who hoped I was going to continue – don't worry. I have at least two more chapters planned after this, but it'll probably end up longer.

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><p>Jim finished securing the hose around the rifle. He whirled around and took aim. He had one shot at this, and one shot only. If he failed, everyone in that room would die: Spock, Pike, himself, the head of Starfleet, and so many others. Almost forgetting to breathe, he threw the rifle.<p>

The ship sucked it in, just like Jim had seen it doing to the particles of dust and debris. It bucked and jerked in protest at the intrusion. The hose raced by Jim as he watched in reluctant fascination. Then he heard metal screech. He whirled around and dropped to the floor just in time to avoid being knocked down dozens of stories to the ground by a chunk of wall the hose ripped off.

Jim scrambled up again in time to catch a cold glare from Harrison. Panting, Jim didn't break eye contact. All-too-familiar white lights swirled around the criminal, cocooning him before taking him away just before the ship crashed to the ground below.

The noise level dropped dramatically, much to the relief of Jim's ears. He stood there for a moment, transfixed, before a glimpse of his green hands reminded him of what he had left behind. He sprinted back across the room.

Pike's head snapped up. The grief in his gaze was unmistakable. "Jim…"

Spock's eyes were closed. His head remained tilted towards Jim. His hand had slipped off his chest. Bloody fingerprints marked his neck where one would feel for a pulse. Jim couldn't see him trembling anymore. Nor could he discern even the faintest rise and fall of his chest to signal breathing.

-LLAP-

"Spock," Pike snapped.

Spock heard the admiral. He might be dying, but his Vulcan hearing remained perfectly intact. He wished to obey the instinct of always replying to a superior officer when a response was necessary. But his body would not respond to his commands.

"Stay awake, Commander, that's an order. _Commander_."

Spock felt himself slipping away. The order stirred the most ingrained part of his being, but he was just so tired. Too tired to reply. The pain faded; he knew that was a major warning sign of… something, but it was a relief to finally get a break from it. Briefly, the pain flared back to life as something – presumably Admiral Pike – shook his body, but by then he was too far gone. He had saved a world, he had saved the most important person to Jim… He would miss Nyota, but humans were adaptable. That was as cold as logic could be, he vaguely realized. He believed the human phrase was "Oh well. He deserved a break."

Death was about as permanent a break one could achieve.

_Goodbye, Nyota. Goodbye, Jim._

Spock opened his eyes. He stood in a small field, no larger than a quarter of an acre. It was ringed by elegant weeping willows, his mother's favorite tree. The sky was decorated with the vivid oranges, pinks, and blues of sunset. He heard a footstep behind him, and he instinctively knew who it was. After all, the best evenings of his childhood had occurred in this clearing, alone with his mother, a welcome reprieve from the endless pressures of the Vulcans.

"Hello, Mother." A smile, barely more than a quirk of his lips but there nonetheless, graced his face.

"Hello, little one," an achingly familiar voice replied. She stepped into his line of sight. A soft smile glowed on her face as she rested one palm on his cheek, her thumb moving to stroke it. Spock lifted his hand to hold hers, not to move it. He drank in the face of the woman who had always taken care of him while letting his touch telepathy pick up the gentle mother's love emanating from her.

Spock clung to her familiarity. "I missed you," he admitted quietly.

Mother's thumb stilled. "I know, sweetheart. I missed you, too."

Spock closed his eyes, the not-so-long-buried guilt surfacing. "If I had seen it a second sooner and held onto you…"

"Then my weight would have dragged you over the edge, too. I knew before you did, and I chose not to reach for you. I would rather die than take you with me, little one. You, Spock, you're my world. More than Sarek, more than Vulcan, more than Earth."

Spock blinked at her. "And yet you would rather leave me alone than let me be with you?"

She explained patiently. "A mother would do anything to spare her child's life. Love is an illogical thing, little one. I would rather be permanently separated from you, knowing you will still have a life to live, even if I'm not a part of it. So, yes: While leaving you was never ideal, was never what I intended, I would rather leave you alive than be with you in death."

"But that is precisely what has happened now," Spock pointed out.

"Only if you choose to stay."

Spock's brows furrowed in confusion. And then voices belonging to neither of them sounded in the distance.

"_Jim, he's gone," Pike murmured._

"_No… he's… not," Jim grunted, his words punctuated by something._

Spock's eyes widened slightly. "They are trying to save me."

His mother nodded. "I didn't leave you alone, Spock."

"_Jim, he lost too much blood."_

"_I… prom… ised… him."_

Spock stared at his mother. He had just gotten her back. He couldn't lose her, not again.

"_James-"_

Admiral Pike was the only person who ever called Jim James. He only used that name when rebuking Jim or attempting to call him off. Spock vaguely wondered how long it had been since he had died.

"_Breathe, dammit!"_

A familiar scene shimmered into existence beside Spock and his mother. It was disconcerting, watching Jim fill Spock's own lungs with air. Pike looked on helplessly.

"Commander,"_ Pike pressed. _

"_I'm _not giving up_ on him."_

"I love you," his mother murmured.

"_Come on, Spock. Don't do this, Spock, _please_ don't do this…"_

And Spock knew. His mother could accept losing him, but Jim and Nyota could not. Spock knew he could survive, even thrive, without his mother. Neither Jim, Nyota, nor Spock knew if Jim and Nyota could do the same without Spock. The decision was only logical.

Spock began to become transparent. The peaceful meadow slowly faded away to be replaced by the gloomy environment of the conference room. Spock moved to pull his mother into his arms at the same time she moved to pull him into hers.

Even as Spock fought to return to life, he clung to her.

-LLAP-

"No," Jim protested weakly. "No." He dropped onto the couch beside Spock. His trembling fingers moved to his neck, searching for a nonexistent pulse. Jim shifted his hands to Spock's side. "Where's his heart?" Why hadn't he paid more attention during the xenobiology class? Because he had been a cocky cadet. And now his cockiness was only further endangering Spock's life.

Wordlessly, Pike tapped a spot on Spock's left ribcage. Jim planted his hands there, braced himself, and dropped his weight down. Spock's body barely moved. Jim pressed down again with more force, and repeated the motion. Physically, Pike didn't try to stop the desperate young commander. Verbally, however…

"Jim, he's gone." The words were uttered as gently as possible, but they were daggers to Jim's heart.

"No… he's… not," Jim grunted between compressions.

"Jim, he lost too much blood."

_"J-Jim-"_

_ "No. You're not going to die, so don't even try to give that speech. You'll be fine, you'll see Uhura again, and I… I know you're sorry."_

"I… prom… ised… him."

"James-"

"Breathe, dammit!" Jim snarled. He tilted Spock's head back, pinched his nose shut, and breathed for him. He returned to the exhausting compressions, ignoring the rapidly worsening ache in his arms.

_"Commander."_

"I'm _not giving up_ on him," Jim snapped desperately. Pike lapsed into silence, helplessly watching Jim's attempts to revive Spock. Jim felt ribs crack underneath his palms, but he pushed on relentlessly.

_"The truth is, I'm gonna miss you."_

_ Spock opened his mouth, but the words never vocalized. Annoyance surfaced in the form of an irritated sigh as Jim turned away, but, in reality, Spock's expression was kind of funny with his mouth open in a classic O and his head tilted to the side._

There was nothing funny about it this time.

Moments that felt like years crawled by before he spoke again. This time, his tone took on a plaintive note, just like when he had begged his brother not to leave. "Come on, Spock," he pleaded. "Don't do this, Spock, _please_ don't do this…"

A voice that filled Jim with pure, unadulterated relief shouted, "Jim!"

"Bones," Jim greeted weakly, refusing to stop.

Bones didn't ask what had happened, letting Pike fill in one of the two nurses with him. He tore open the medkit he had, yanking out a cardiostimulator. "Nurse, get his shirts off." One of the nurses, a young woman, didn't even bother with scissors as she tore Spock's shirts in half. Incredibly, if not entirely unpredictably, despite the dire situation, Jim briefly wondered how Uhura would feel if she were here to witness the strikingly beautiful nurse tearing Spock's shirts off like that.

"All right, Jim, stop," Bones ordered. He slapped the stimulators on Spock's side and obligingly gave him a rapid breath, before beginning to administer the shocks. Jim backed towards Pike's new seat on a stretcher and sat heavily beside him, not even noticing when someone started tending to his glass-ridden neck, and observed as Spock's body jolted once…

Twice…

Three times…


	3. Chapter 3

Pain flooded Spock's entire being. His eyes flew open. For the second time, he desperately sucked in a lungful of air. A hand rested beside his head and neck, not quite touching his skin, but more than enough to reassure a Vulcan. An oxygen mask was carefully placed on his face as he tiredly struggled to get his bearings.

"Just breathe, hobgoblin," McCoy advised. His tone was brisk, but there was an underlying current of emotion Spock identified as… relief? He studied the doctor's expression for confirmation, but the professional mask he had donned could rival a Vulcan's. The hand beside his face disappeared as McCoy turned to tend to him.

Pain spiked afresh in the region of his injury and ribs at the same time, jolting Spock out of his scrutiny. He clamped his mouth shut against a whimper, instantly missing the influx of oxygen from the feeble breaths he had been managing. At his side, his hand twitched involuntarily.

"I told you to breathe," McCoy rebuked him. Spock wanted to manage a retort, but his mind was still too sluggish, and he lacked enough breath as well. The doctor produced a hypospray and efficiently administered its contents. The pain dulled to an easily tolerable level, leaving Spock free to enjoy breathing as ordered.

_Jim._

The name exploded in his mind. How had he forgotten? He turned his head to allow his gaze to roam. As the threat of death faded, he felt a healing trance tugging enticingly at consciousness; he strove to maintain it. Where was Jim?

There. On a stretcher approximately seven feet away, Jim sat beside Admiral Pike. The grin of pure relief that graced Jim's young face chased away the dark clouds of anxiety in his sky blue eyes. Spock finally permitted himself to relax. He slipped into the healing trance.

-LLAP-

Spock sucked in a gasping breath. Bones moved instantly to reassure him and slip an oxygen mask on his face, simultaneously taking his pulse. The nurses worked on his wound, which was surprisingly small for having poured enough blood to stain six people, while Bones administered hypos surprisingly gently and started tending to his ribs. Jim flashed a relieved grin when Spock's searching eyes found him. The brown orbs closed a second later as, temporary dressings covering his stomach and side until he could receive more permanent treatment, Bones and the nurses lifted him onto another stretcher and followed him out.

Only then did Jim let his forehead drop onto Pike's shoulder as relief flooded him. Pike wrapped a steady arm around him and repeated what he had said at the bar.

"It's gonna be ok, son."

Jim was more than ready to believe it.

-LLAP-

A few hours later, Pike and Jim sat on a couch in Spock's hospital room. The Vulcan lay on a biobed, seemingly comatose. McCoy assured them he was only in a healing trance – a perfectly natural thing for Vulcans after sustaining a mortal wound. It was strange, seeing Spock in a hospital gown instead of his uniform; he never seemed to take that uniform off. Pike also hadn't realized exactly how much warmer Vulcans preferred the temperature to be until he was in a healing Vulcan's hospital room with another man using him as a pillow. Despite his anxiety over Spock's injuries, Jim had passed out like a light about two hours ago, and neither Pike nor Jim had moved since.

Normally, superior officers would do something about a lower-ranking crewmember using them as a pillow. But Pike didn't mind. It had been a grueling day for the kid between losing his command after being betrayed by his first officer, a close friend, and subsequently almost losing that same man to death's clutches. Not to mention how little parental comfort Jim had actually received throughout his entire life. And Jim losing his command was partially Pike's fault, too, for reporting it to Admiral Marcus – not that the kid was entirely devoid of blame himself, but his heart had always been in the right place.

The doors opened with a quiet _swoosh_. Pike glanced over at them to see that Doctor McCoy had returned. Reluctant as he was to leave Spock, the doctor had had to tend to other patients. Now he half-stumbled into the room, exhaustion lining his face, but he made his way dutifully to Spock's bedside to check on his vitals. He didn't quite seem to notice them, but he did position himself to give the unconscious Vulcan some privacy when he checked the wounds.

"He'll be fine-" he started to explain.

"Shh," Pike cut him off. McCoy glanced up, appearing affronted until his hazel eyes landed on Jim. The ever-present sarcastic edge in his features softened, reminding Pike of a protective older brother, and he willingly fell silent. The southern doctor flopped down in a chair and was asleep within seconds.

The scene strangely reminded Pike of a dysfunctional family brought together by the suffering of one member. The only thing missing was…

_"Where is he?"_

…a female figure to bring order.

McCoy bolted upright, jerked out of his sleep by Uhura's yell from the hallway, vibrating with emotion. He muttered a few choice curses under his breath, adding, "I forgot to tell them to let her in," as he stumbled to his feet and out the door. Jim lifted his head, blinking groggily, his jaws gaping in a yawn.

"What'd I miss?" he mumbled.

"Nothing – yet," Pike replied lightly. Intrigue sharpened Jim's sleep-clouded gaze. "Spock's going to be fine, by the way." Jim sat up with a relieved sigh, shooting a self-conscious glance at Pike's shoulder. Pike didn't have time to respond as the doors reopened, admitting a whirlwind of woman trailed by a somewhat sheepish doctor.

"I forgot, all right? I was preoccupied," McCoy defended himself.

"You 'forgot?' _Forgot?_ How long have you known about us?" Uhura spat over her shoulder. McCoy almost seemed to recoil from her fury. Funny how a woman's anger could make even the most infallible men flinch. Pike exchanged a glance with Jim, whose twitching mouth betrayed the serious expression on his face.

"Shut up, Jim," McCoy snapped out of the blue.

"I didn't say anything," Jim protested petulantly.

"Your mouth was twitching."

"You weren't even looking at me."

"I've known you for three years, Jim. Your mouth _always_ twitches despite your oh-so-serious expression when a woman is yelling at me."

"It does _not_."

"Wanna test that?"

"Men," Uhura sighed exasperatedly, her anger dissipating. She dragged a chair over to Spock's bed and sat down, resting one hand on top of Spock's. Jim and McCoy turned their gazes to her, each one looking hilariously affronted. Pike's eyebrow only rose.

"'Men?'" Jim finally had the audacity to ask.

She looked at them as if it was the most natural comment in the world. "You're all immature."

"Want to test that?" Pike couldn't resist saying. The playful bickering stopped as the three officers turned to stare at Pike. Bemusement glimmered in Uhura's gaze, McCoy just looked startled, and Jim looked like the son whose dad had made a dad joke. Pike flashed a mischievous grin at them and limped out of the room.

Pike could be a leader, but Jim would always be _their_ leader. Jim could be a first officer, but Spock would always be _their_ first officer. After only a few months, they were as good as family. They all had their roles, and Pike didn't quite fit.

Knowing that didn't hurt. He felt only joy that Jim, once so lost and misguided and alone, had found people to fit in with. That thought gave Pike all the contentment he needed. The wayward son had grown in so many ways thanks to that crew. Jim had Spock to temper his emotions without squelching them and ruining the shining star that was Jim Kirk; Jim had McCoy to take him down a notch when he needed it and provide the caring older figure Jim had lacked growing up; Jim had Uhura to properly assert a feminine influence for the first time in the kid's life; Jim had four hundred other crewmembers to teach him responsibility. They were living, breathing proof that family didn't end with blood.

That wasn't a family that could be broken up. He was the only one with a chance to fix it.

The only question was how.

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><p>AN: This was not what I intended for this chapter – I intended it to have more important stuff than it actually does. The story had a mind of its own, apparently, so it ended there. Not a lot of action, but there was some humor, thankfully. I love writing Bones' sarcasm, because I'm pretty sure he's where I got my sharp-edged tongue from… Anyway, the weekend has _finally_ arrived, so I should, in theory, have time to post another chapter before Monday morning, but my mother and teachers may have other plans for my life. Sigh.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I know, I know, I said I'd get this up a week ago. And I tried. But my teachers don't understand the meaning of "free time." And I didn't really get inspired for this until yesterday. So, one week late and without further ado, here's chapter four.

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><p>"So what's supposed to happen now?" Bones asked quietly. He had followed Jim into the empty corridor, leaving Uhura at Spock's bedside, clutching his hand with an expression on her face akin to the reaction after getting punched in the gut. Jim had just informed them of his demotion – and Spock's subsequent reassignment.<p>

"If we have to go chase Harrison down," Bones had commented while typing something into a PADD a few hours after Pike left, "we can Spock to the _Enterprise_ to finish recovering."

Well, that had been as good an opportunity as any to broach the subject he had been dreading.

"I don't know if that'll go over well with Captain Abbot, or Admiral Marcus," Jim had pointed out quietly. There had been an edge of bitterness to his tone, even though he should have been furious. It was just impossible to truly be angry with the limp figure on the biobed, looking far more vulnerable than a Vulcan should ever look. Not to mention continuing a friendship during a long separation would be difficult enough without Jim being furious at Spock, who would more than likely not understand Jim's fury.

"What," Uhura ventured, curious but wary of the reply, "does that mean?"

Jim cleared his throat. "Remember when I was making my report on the bridge?"

She nodded. "We all watched you in utter disbelief as you described it as 'uneventful.'"

"Well, Spock wasn't there and…" Jim began, avoiding her gaze. In hindsight, this had been one of his stupider ideas. "I _may_ have forgotten to mention to Spock that I lied."

"And he reported your violation of his precious Prime Directive, didn't he?" Bones concluded with a sigh. Jim nodded, still not looking at either one of them. "What did the admirals do to you?"

"I was initially just going to be sent back to the academy, but Pike intervened on my behalf." Jim sent yet another silent thanks to the older man. "He convinced Marcus just to demote me to his first officer."

"You realize how lucky you are, right?"

"I know, Bones," Jim sighed. "I just wish…"

"Wish what?" Uhura broke in. "Wish that you had thought? This wouldn't have been even half as bad if you _hadn't lied_."

"I rea-"

"Or if you hadn't come up with that insanely idiotic and risky plan _in the first place_. Then Spock never would have been in that cursed volcano, and you never would have had to break the Prime Directive," Uhura ranted on relentlessly.

Jim blinked. "I was trying to save a civilization."

"Always the hero! You can't just let destiny take its course."

"Don't talk to me about altering destiny," Jim spat. "That's the reason my birthday is the anniversary of my father's death!"

"You were playing God!"

God, she sounded like Pike. It felt almost like that lecture all over again. "So was Nero! At least _I _was doing it for the right reasons."

"You nearly got Spock, Sulu, Leonard, you, and me killed," Uhura shot back.

"But I didn't. And, in case you didn't notice, I'm one of the reasons Spock's _alive_."

"So? If you hadn't sent him into the volcano, he'd have been fine. You never would have been demoted, so Pike never would have been in that room because he wouldn't have his own ship."

Jim pushed to his feet. "Well, I think Spock should have a say in this. He'd say: 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.' You needing your precious boyfriend falls under the 'few' category."

Uhura stared, stunned. Even Bones seemed taken aback by the viciousness of the comment. Jim whirled around and fled to the corridor.

And now, a few minutes later, Bones stood just behind him and to his left, just as he always had. And Jim replied despondently, all anger gone from his voice, "I don't know."

Jim's communicator chose that moment to beep. He fumbled to open it, clearing his throat before responding. "Yeah?"

_"Mr. Scott has found something in the wreckage of Harrison's ship,"_ Pike reported briskly. _"Get over here, Jim."_

"I'm coming," Jim replied. He snapped the communicator shut.

"I'll comm. you when the hobgoblin wakes up," Bones promised.

"Thanks." Jim shot a glance at the closed door before turning and walking away to meet with Pike and Scotty.

By the time he arrived in the courtyard a few minutes later, he had firmly locked his inner turmoil away. Pike stepped smoothly up to his side, his cane tapping away on the stone beneath their feet, and Jim slowed his pace to match Pike's. Briefly, he wondered why the admirals had given Starfleet's flagship to a crippled admiral.

"What is it, Scotty?" Jim called. Scotty held a giant piece of metal that had been burned and scratched in the crash.

"It's a portable transwarp beaming device," the chief engineer reported. "This is how the bastard got away."

Jim and Pike exchanged a glance. Harrison could be anywhere now. "Can you figure out where he went?" Jim inquired.

"I already did, sir, and yer not gonna like it." Scotty pressed a few buttons, and a set of coordinates appeared on the device's screen. Jim's heart sank as he realized where those coordinates were.

"He's gone to the one place we… we just can't go," Scotty finished gloomily.

-LLAP-

"Slap me," Spock rasped, half-opening his eyes. Nyota, staring absently out the window, started at the sound of his voice. And the strangeness of the request.

"What?"

"Slap me," Spock repeated, slightly urgent this time. If he didn't regain full consciousness soon…

Without further ado, Nyota's hand made contact with the side of his face. There was no suggestion of hesitation or reluctance, and his cheek soon began stinging furiously. It helped, but not enough, so Spock rasped, "Keep going." Nyota slapped him again, with no change in force. She repeated the action until he caught her wrist, now fully conscious and sure his face was green, though he hoped it wasn't noticeable.

"Thank you, Ny-"

"No," she cut him off. Spock froze mid-sentence, blinking at her in confusion. "Don't call me that."

Spock sat up, feeling the movement pull at still-slightly-sensitive ribs. "I thought-"

"No, you _didn't_. You and Kirk don't think, and that's the problem." With that, she stood and walked briskly away.

"Nyota…" But she was already gone. Doctor McCoy stepped inside, shooting a wary glance after her.

"She's been in quite a mood today," he commented under his breath. "What's she mad at you about?"

Spock shook his head, still utterly bewildered. "I do not know."

"Women," the doctor sighed. His hazel eyes flicked appraisingly over Spock's face. "Why's your face green?"

So much for the discoloration not being noticeable. "I required a minimal amount of pain to fully regain consciousness. Lieutenant Uhura seemed happy to oblige," he added dryly.

McCoy snorted. "I'll bet." He moved to a table and picked up a medical tricorder. "Let me see your wounds."

Spock obligingly exposed his stomach and ribs, silently thanking whoever had had the foresight to raise the temperature. He glanced down, observing a patch of faded, but still dark, green bruises over his heart and a pale green cut where the dermal regenerator had not quite fixed the hole in his stomach.

"Vulcans really need to teach other species how to do this healing trance," McCoy muttered under his breath.

"Other species must first reach the necessary level of mental discipline," Spock pointed out mildly.

"You Vulcans are so smug."

"I was merely stating a fact."

"Of course you were," McCoy commented sarcastically. "Those bruises still look pretty nasty," he added more professionally. Gently, he applied pressure to the affected area of Spock's ribs. "Does that hurt?"

Spock unconsciously dug his fingers into the biobed a little. "Healing trances are not perfect, Doctor, even less so when one happens to be half human."

McCoy pulled the tricorder away. "A simple 'yes' would have sufficed." Spock remained silent, focusing on maintaining control. "Well, I suppose you're fit for duty. I don't think there's any risk of infection from your stomach, and those ribs will be fine in a day or two if you don't strain them."

Spock found himself wishing – irrationally – that he could make some sort of retort about how unlikely that was with James Kirk as his captain.

"Here's a uniform," McCoy said, interrupting Spock's train of thought. Just then, McCoy's communicator beeped. With a muttered, "Damn, forgot to comm. Jim," McCoy flipped it open.

_"Bones! Is Spock awake?"_

"And ready for duty," McCoy replied as Spock pulled the black undershirt on. "Why?"

_"Ask what he knows about the coordinates 43-89-26-05."_

McCoy passed the communicator to Spock. "Commander, why are you asking me about coordinates on the Klingon home world?"

_"Oh, great, you're right there,"_ Jim said instead of answering. _"Just answer the question."_

Odd. "I will need more specific information to provide a more detailed reply."

_"Then come down here so we can show you."_

"Yes, Commander," Spock agreed, obeying Jim out of sheer habit instead of command structure. McCoy took the communicator back and left Spock to finish changing in peace.

Admiral Pike, Mr. Scott, and Jim were deep in conversation by the time he arrived. Scott held a large piece of metal that appeared to have been damaged in a crash – most likely from Harrison's ship, Spock surmised.

Jim was the first to see him. A relieved smiled flickered across his face before he informed Spock of the situation. "Scotty found this portable transwarp beaming device in the wreckage of Harrison's ship, and we pretty much know he used it to escape. What can you tell us about the coordinates?"

Scott angled the device so Spock could see the screen. Spock scanned the various pieces of information shown and matched it with what he knew about Qo'noS. "He transported to the Ketha Province, an uninhabited area on the home world."

"I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing," Jim murmured.

"It most likely implies he is not defecting," Spock pointed out.

"It also means the Klingons can't arrest him for us because he'll probably be hiding," Jim countered.

"Even if the Klingons did arrest him, Starfleet's history with them leads to the conclusion Harrison would not be given to us. Indeed, they may very well have welcomed him into their ranks in exchange for Starfleet secrets."

"True," Jim conceded. Anyone could see the thoughts flickering through his sky blue eyes like minnows.

"We should tell Marcus," Pike pointed out. He had been watching the rapid-fire exchange of possibilities with a slight feeling of awe. So few people could match either Spock or Jim intellectually, and watching those two think aloud and playing off each other so smoothly was something of a spectacle.

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "You can go… do whatever it is engineers do with that, Scotty." The chief engineer nodded and left, contemplating the device in his arms. Pike led the way to Marcus' office, with Spock and Jim following and debating possible theories with a speed and intensity Pike couldn't match. It was yet further proof, to Pike, anyway, that those two belonged on the same command team.

"All right, girls, it's time to stop arguing," Pike tossed over his shoulder as they reached the building. Spock's head snapped up, and Jim appeared mortified.

_"Girls?"_

"Yes. Now shush." An idea slowly began to blossom in Pike's mind. "Jim, you take the lead on this conversation."

"But you just told me to shush."

_Now he listens? _"Just do it, Jim. Pretend I'm not there."

Jim blinked. "Ok." Spock's gaze flicked between the two humans. Pike thought that maybe the perceptive Vulcan understood what Pike was trying to do, but Pike had never spent enough time with Spock to be able to read him as well as Jim could. He gave a mental shrug as they entered the room, where Marcus was instructing a few of the admirals, given command of a ship again in the wake of the injuries and deaths caused by Harrison's attack, on a blockade formation.

"Admiral," Pike called, cutting Marcus off mid-sentence. Probably not the best idea, but the orders would have been pointless anyway. Marcus looked up, and Pike glanced at Jim.

Uncharacteristically hesitant, Jim glanced at Pike before saying, "Harrison isn't on Earth, sir. He's on Qo'noS."

Marcus considered Jim for a moment before dismissing the admirals with a nod and, "Give us a minute." Marcus approached them as the admirals cleared the room. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, sir. Chief Engineer Scott found a portable transwarp beaming device in the wreckage and determined he beamed to Qo'noS."

"Do we know for sure he used it?"

"I saw him beam out myself, sir," Jim confirmed, surprising Pike. The kid hadn't mentioned that.

Marcus nodded. "Is he defecting?"

"The coordinates are located in the Ketha province, sir, an uninhabited area," Spock replied. "It is most likely-"

"-that he's hiding there," Jim finished. "If we could go after him-"

"Go to Qo'noS?" Marcus exclaimed.

Jim nodded, all hesitation gone. "Just the _Enterprise_, sir. We could be in an out before the Klingons ever noticed us."

"I can't allow-"

"Please, sir," Jim cut him off. "We need to get him away from the Klingons in case he _does_ decide to defect. However unlikely the possibility may be," Jim added as Spock opened his mouth. The Vulcan closed it again with a nod of agreement.

Marcus considered Jim again. Jim gave no sign that the piercing stare affected him. He only met Marcus' gaze, his own piercing electric blue eyes shining with determination. Finally, Marcus turned away, back towards his desk.

"All out war with the Klingons is inevitable, Mr. Kirk. If you ask me, it's already begun. Since we first learned of their existence, the Klingon Empire has conquered and occupied two planets that we know of, fired on our ships half a dozen times. They are coming our way. London was not an archive, it was a top secret branch of Starfleet designated to Section 31. They were developing defense technologies and training our officers to gather intelligence on the Klingons, and any other potential enemy that means to do us harm. Harrison was one of our top agents."

The three underlings stared at Marcus in shock. Not even Pike had known of Section 31's existence. Which led to the conclusion that it was a truly dire situation should Harrison defect.

"Well, now he's a fugitive and I wanna take him out," Jim said heatedly.

Marcus was silent again. His gaze flicked to Spock. "Weren't you injured, Commander?"

Spock inclined his head. "Nearly fatally, sir, but Doctor McCoy cleared me for duty."

His gaze shifted to Pike. "Protecting you, right?"

"Yes," Pike admitted, confused as to where this was going.

"Your deaths were almost on me," Marcus continued, flashing a meaningful glance at Pike. The words that had convinced him to join Starfleet echoed through Pike's head. "And I can't have that actually happen."

"Sir, please-" Jim pleaded.

"Mr. Spock, you said that the place Harrison is hiding is uninhabited?" Marcus overrode him.

"Affirmative, sir."

Marcus appraised the trio again before giving a decisive little nod. "As part of our defensive strategy, 31 developed a new photon torpedo. Long range and untraceable, it would be invisible to Klingon sensors. I don't want you hurt, but I want to take him out. You park on the edge of the Neutral Zone, you lock on to Harrison's position, you fire, you kill him, and you haul ass." The order was aimed at Pike, not Jim. Well, there was his opening.

"Sir, I request that you reinstate Kirk as captain of the _Enterprise_ with Spock as his first officer."

* * *

><p>AN: So, there it is. A lot longer than normal, and I hope it makes up for the long wait. I'd say I'll hopefully have chapter five up in a couple days, but that worked _so_ well last week. That being said, I actually know where chapter five is going right now. It's probably just finding time that's going to be an issue…

That first part was my first attempt at starting off and then going back a few minutes in an it's-kind-of-a-flashback-but-not-really thing, so I hope it made sense. I've wanted to try that technique for a while.

And for those who love Uhura (which is me, too) – sorry. She just came out really… bad in this chapter. She was even getting on my nerves with those comments. But after seeing the deleted scene in which Jim is recording his log and realizing Spock was getting decontaminated or something while Jim was recording that, I realized I was blaming Spock for reporting him way too much. Jim should have given the poor Vulcan some sort of heads up that he lied – not that Spock shouldn't have expected it, either, so he's definitely not entirely devoid of blame. (For those who haven't seen that deleted scene, it was hilarious. The entire command crew except Spock was on the bridge listening to him record it and just staring at him like "Really?")


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Well, it hasn't been a _whole_ week, at least. This chapter's also a little longer.

* * *

><p>Jim and Spock stared at Pike. Even Pike could read the surprise in Spock's human eyes, and stunned disbelief radiated from Jim for anyone to see.<p>

"What?"

"You heard me, Admiral."

Marcus jerked his head at Spock and Jim. "You two are dismissed." Spock had to "accidentally" bump into Jim to get the stunned younger man to stumble out the door. Pike wanted to roll his eyes in exasperated affection, but he kept his eyes unwaveringly locked on Marcus. He was expecting a stinging comment of some sort, but Marcus simply said, "Why?"

"You saw how they worked together. Both here and at Daystrom, they barely needed to look at each other to know what the other was thinking. That kind of harmony in a command team is rare, especially after only a few months of even knowing each other."

"You know Kirk pretty well," Marcus pointed out. "And Spock can guess anyone's thoughts."

Pike conceded the point with a nod. "True. But there are also personalities to consider. Jim is young, impulsive, and emotional. Spock, though also young, has Vulcan logic and detachment. Separately, they're at odds with the world, but together, they can do anything – including destroy a Romulan ship that outclassed them by over a century of technological development with no casualties on our side, saving Earth and me in the process."

Marcus' gaze gave away nothing. "You recruited him, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir."

Marcus sat and leaned back in his chair. "Has he changed?"

"Sir?"

"Has he changed since you recruited him?"

"Definitely, sir."

"Since he was made captain?"

Pike hesitated. Had he? Jim was still cocky and overconfident, but he was learning responsibility. Undoing a lifetime of rule-breaking took a long time – and the right influences.

"As much as one can in the short span of a few months," he finally replied. "Spock's a good influence on him."

"And yet he still violated the Prime Directive."

"To save a _life_. He's only been in Starfleet for three and a half years, and he spent a decade before that doing all the wrong things because of peer pressure from his older brother and lack of a good parental figure. Me, then McCoy, and then Spock haven't had enough time to completely smooth out the rough patches, and maybe we never will, but he's come a long way, and the _Enterprise_ holds him together. It's more of a home to him than anything ever has been, and that crew is more of a family to him than he's ever had. If you want Jim Kirk at the top of his game, you'll keep him and Spock right where they were before Nibiru."

Marcus fell silent, his eyes glittering calculatingly. Pike refused to fidget under the cold, piercing blue gaze. Time crawled by, slower than a snail.

"Do you believe they're the right team to take down Harrison?"

"Without a doubt, sir."

Finally, Marcus nodded his agreement.

"Tell them the good news, Pike. But," he added, "I want you on that ship to supervise them. Let's see how this mission goes before it's official."

"Yes, sir," Pike said, scarcely able to hide the glow of relief and joy warming him. Marcus waved a hand to dismiss him.

Jim and Spock hadn't gone far. Spock stood serenely in the courtyard, nothing giving away any sort of emotion over the decision. Jim, however, paced restlessly in front of the Vulcan. Pike couldn't tell what Spock was saying, but his lips were moving. Jim glanced at him, pausing for a moment in his pacing. Then the Vulcan nodded in Pike's direction, causing Jim's head to whip around, but Spock kept him waiting in place (if not exactly calmly) while Pike limped over.

"Congratulations, Captain," Pike greeted the two warmly.

The universe-brightening grin that Pike hadn't seen since the last time Jim was on Earth split Jim's face. Jim clapped Spock on the shoulder, ignoring his dubious glance. "Looks like you're not free of Bones yet."

"It would seem not," Spock replied dryly.

"Don't get too excited; I'm coming with you."

The grin dimmed a bit. "Why?"

"Marcus wants me to. Just don't screw up and you'll be fine." Spock's eyebrow twitched as if to rise, nearly eliciting a laugh from Pike. The Vulcan may not do it intentionally, but he could be hilariously sarcastic.

-LLAP-

A few hours later, Jim was walking towards the shuttle that would take him back to the _Enterprise_ – his ship. _His ship_. He hadn't been able to get her sleek curves, her shining silver hull, or her gleaming white corridors that had become his home out of his mind since Pike had said she was being taken away from him. Now, he was itching to get back aboard and sit in his chair again.

"Jim," Bones called. The young captain paused as the older man jogged to catch up, a medkit swinging in one hand. "You've somehow managed to avoid your required post-firefight medical exam. Again."

Jim resumed walking. "Don't I always?"

_"Jim,"_ Bones said, exasperated. Jim flashed a cheeky grin over his shoulder.

"I'm fine, Bones."

"You're fine when I say you are," the grumpy southern doctor shot back.

"I'm fine," Jim insisted.

"You only feel fine 'cause Pike managed a miracle for you," Bones grumbled. Jim ignored him as he boarded the shuttle. Noticing Spock alone by the window in one of the farther back rows, Jim settled in the aisle seat of the same row. Spock looked around as Bones settled in the middle seat in the row behind them, busying himself with opening his medkit. Jim resigned himself to receiving an impromptu exam right there in the shuttle.

"Captain," Spock greeted. The whir of a scanner filled the air. Jim tried not to eye Bones in annoyance.

"Status report?" Jim asked, placing his PADD on the seat between them.

"The _Enterprise_ should be ready for launch by the time we arrive," Spock reported readily.

"Good," Jim commented, absently picking up his PADD again.

"Captain," Spock said again, recapturing his attention. "Thank you for allowing my reinstatement."

Jim gave a small smile. "You're welcome."

"As I am again your first officer, it is now my duty to strongly object to our mission parameters."

Jim's nostrils flared in annoyance. "Of course it is."

"There is no Starfleet regulation that condemns a man to die without a trial," Spock continued, oblivious to the sarcasm in Jim's tone. "Something you and Admirals Pike and Marcus are forgetting. Also, preemptively firing torpedoes at the Klingon homeworld goes against-"

"You yourself said the area's uninhabited," Jim cut off what surely would have turned into a rambling speech. "There's only gonna be one casualty. And in case you weren't listening, our orders have nothing to do with Starfleet regulation."

"Wait a minute. We're firing torpedoes at the Klingons?" Bones broke in incredulously.

"Regulations aside, this action is morally wrong," Spock persisted.

"Regulations aside, pulling your ass out of a volcano was morally right. I didn't win any points for that," Jim snapped bitterly. It was a lot easier to let his frustration at Spock's actions flow when he was awake and being thick-headed.

"Whoa, Jim, calm down," Bones advised.

"I'm not gonna take ethics lessons from a robot!"

"Reverting to name-calling suggests you are defensive and therefore find my opinion valid," Spock pointed out.

"Well, I wasn't asking for your opinion. Bones, _getthatthingoffmyface._" Frowning, Bones put whatever the heck it was back into the medkit.

"Captain, our mission could start a war with the Klingons and it is, by its very definition, immoral. Perhaps you should take the requisite time to arrive at this conclusion for yourself."

Jim couldn't deny Spock's logic. Hell, he never could.

An elegant British accent saved him from having to reply. "Captain Kirk." Jim looked up, and was instantly caught off-guard by bright blonde hair, intelligent blue eyes, and a smile as brilliant as his own. "Science Officer Wallace," she introduced herself. "I've been assigned to the _Enterprise_ by Admiral Marcus. These are my transfer orders."

"You requested an additional science officer, Captain?" Spock said, his voice rising slightly. In anyone else, Jim would have said the tone was jealous.

"I wish I had," Jim said, glancing at his expression. Eyebrows furrowed slightly, head tilted almost unnoticeably. Definitely jealous. He turned his attention to the PADD she had handed him, missing Spock's scrutinizing glance and her uneasy reaction to it.

"'Lieutenant Carol Wallace. Doctorate in applied physics, specializing in advanced weaponry.'"

"Impressive credentials," Spock conceded.

"Thank you," Carol said.

"But redundant, now that I am back aboard the _Enterprise_."

_Humble much?_ "And yet, the more the merrier. Have a seat, Doctor," Jim invited.

"Thank you," she said, flashing her brilliantly beautiful grin as she settled in the empty seat between captain and first officer.

"Shuttle crew, stand by for lift-off," the shuttle pilot advised. Jim turned his head to look out the window as the _Enterprise_ came into view. His eyes traced every curve, lovingly read the letters spelling her name, drifted over the shuttles ferrying her crew – his crew – aboard. Pride bubbled up inside him.

She was his ship, and he was her captain.

-LLAP-

Once the shuttle had docked, Jim led Bones, Spock, and Carol to Engineering. Well, he went there and they followed for whatever reason. Carol's eyes lit up when she spotted the torpedoes. Soon, a familiar Scottish brogue reached Jim's ears.

"No! I'm not signin' anything. Now get these bloody things off my ship," Scotty ordered, gesturing at the torpedoes in irritation. His eyes found Jim, and he looked relieved. "Ah, Captain!"

Jim suppressed the urge to sigh. "Is there a problem, Mr. Scott?"

"Aye, sir. I was just explaining to this gentleman here that I cannae authorize any weapons on board this ship withou' knowing what's inside them."

"Mr. Scott raises yet another point-" Spock began.

"Report to the bridge," Jim interrupted him, handing over his PADD.

Spock very nearly glared at him as he took it and left with a short, "Captain."

"Mr. Scott, I understand your concerns, but we need these torpedoes onboard."

An expression akin to betrayal flashed across Scotty's face. "Due respect, sir, but photon torpedoes run on fuel. Now, I cannae detect the type of fuel that's in the compartments on these torpedoes because it's shielded. Now, I asked for the specifications, but he said…"

Scotty pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. "It's classified."

"'It's classified.' So I said, 'No specs, no signature!'"

"Captain," a beautifully calm voice called down to them. Jim and Scotty looked up to see Sulu, already dressed in the appropriate uniform, on a catwalk above them. "Flight check's complete. We're good to go, sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Sulu." Finally, _someone_ was cooperating.

"Yes, sir."

Scotty turned back to Jim. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a warp core to prime. Get down!" the irked Scotsman shouted at Getif, who was perched on one of the torpedoes.

"Jim, your vitals are way off."

"Report to the medbay."

This time, Jim did sigh as he moved to catch up to his chief engineer. "Scotty! I need you to approve those weapons."

Scotty waved at the warp core. "Do you know what this is, Captain?"

"I don't have time for a lecture, Scotty," Jim protested.

"Do you know what this is?" Scotty repeated.

Jim sighed. "It's a warp core."

"It's a radioactive catastrophe waiting to happen. A subtle shift in magnetic output from, say, firing one or more of _six dozen_ torpedoes with an unknown payload could set off a chain reaction which would kill every living thing on this ship. Letting those torpedoes onboard the _Enterprise_ is the last straw!" Scotty ranted.

"What was the first straw?" Jim snapped.

"What was the…" Scotty spluttered. "There are plenty of straws. How about Starfleet confiscating my transwarp equation? And now some madman's using it to hop across the galaxy! Where d'you think he got it from?"

"We have our orders, Scotty!" Jim shouted desperately over the enraged man.

"That's what scares me," Scotty admitted, lowering his voice. "This is clearly a military operation. Is that what we are now? 'Cause I thought we were explorers."

"Sign for the torpedoes, that's an order." Jim realized his tone was harsh, unconsciously hiding the doubt burgeoning inside him, brought on by his crew's protests to the mission. He couldn't have these doubts. If he failed this mission, he'd lose his ship. He _couldn't_ lose her.

Scotty frowned, his head bobbing decisively. "Right, well, you leave me no choice but to resign my duties."

"Come on, Scotty," Jim pleaded.

"You're giving me no choice, sir. I will not stand by-"

"You're not giving me much of a choice," Jim protested. "Will you just make an exception and sign-"

"Do you accept my resignation or not?" Scotty persisted.

"I do!" Jim snapped. This time, the betrayal was unmistakable. Realizing what he'd just done, guilt surged to the surface, but he firmly repeated, "I do. You are relieved, Mr. Scott." He glanced away from his friend. Scotty, too, looked away. They both regretted their words, but neither was prepared to say as much.

Finally, Scotty looked up. "Jim," he murmured, "for the love of God, _do not_ use those torpedoes." The older man stepped back, and Jim took the PADD he was handed. Scotty turned and made it halfway out of the room before turning to glare at Getif. The tiny alien handed over his own PADD before following his best friend. Jim watched in despair as his two best engineers departed.

Yes, he had to complete this mission.

But how much was he expected to lose to do so?

* * *

><p>AN: So, everything was looking up, everyone's alive, and then the angst resumes, because no one can be happy for long, can they? (I'm looking at you, Supernatural. And you, Sherlock.)

I won't be rewriting _every_ scene (most likely), at least not in detail. There are some, however, that Pike not dying and being on the _Enterprise_ and Spock being injured will have changed somewhat drastically (at least in my head).

Just as a heads-up, I will be doing NaNoWriMo, and this is obviously not the story I'll be writing since I've already started it. I'm doing my best to finish this before it starts, but my teachers and my brain are making it very difficult. The story wasn't supposed to be this long – I originally had only two chapters, but the second one just didn't live up to the hype the first one caused, and then it turned into this (which I'm honestly a lot happier about than I was about the original second chapter). That's why I started this so close to NaNoWriMo (and I got the first three chapters up within a week, so why would I ever expect writing this would take so long…).

Anyways, I'm trying, but you have my apologies in advance if I have to drop this for a month before I'm done.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Woohoo! Decent timing _and _a long chapter.

* * *

><p>Within five minutes, Jim had changed and decided who would replace Scotty as chief engineer. He was on the flight deck and making his way to the turbolift when Lieutenant Uhura found him. Matching his pace, she said, "Thank you."<p>

"For what?"

"Saving Spock's life."

Jim snorted but remained silent otherwise. Uhura glanced at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Jim replied. They entered the turbolift, and the conversation almost ended, but then Jim sighed. "Actually, Scotty just quit." Uhura's head swiveled to stare in shock. "And your boyfriend's second-guessing me every chance he gets." Her head turned away again, her expression becoming unreadable. Jim glanced at her. "Sorry, that was in appropriate. It's just sometimes I want to rip the f… bangs off his head." Realizing that might also be the wrong thing to say to her, he added, "You know, maybe it's just me…"

"It's not you," she agreed, surprising him. He glanced at her.

"It's not?" Her gaze remained fixed on the door, still unreadable. Jim turned his body to face her. "What, are you guys… are you guys fighting?"

She, too, turned. "I'd rather not talk about it, sir."

But Jim, being the young man he was, couldn't resist. "Oh my God, what is that even like?"

Just then, the doors slid open. None other than Spock stood in front of them. He seemed slightly apprehensive when he saw the turbolift's passengers. Jim watched as Uhura stalked past the Vulcan, then followed and murmured, "Ears burning?" Spock's double-take upon remembering the phrase's meaning almost made Jim laugh.

Pike stood beside Jim's chair, observing the activity on the bridge with a mildly wistful air. Jim came to stand beside him, acknowledging his former captain with a stiff nod.

"Don't mind me, Jim," Pike murmured so only they could hear. "So long as Harrison is neutralized as a threat, Marcus will only get a favorable report from me."

The comment enabled Jim to relax slightly. "I have to speak with Chekov," he murmured.

Leaning on the navigator's console, he said, "Mr. Chekov. You've been shadowing Mr. Scott. You are familiar with the engineering systems of this ship?"

"Affirmative, sir."

Jim nodded. "Good. You're my new Chief. Go put on a red shirt." He clapped Chekov reassuringly on the shoulder and walked off, hearing a breathed and anxious, "Aye, Keptin," behind him. Jim desperately hoped he hadn't just dropped too much weight on Chekov's young shoulders.

As Chekov left for Engineering and his replacement sat down, Jim settled in his chair. With a nod, he ordered, "Retract all moorings, Mr. Sulu."

"Aye, sir."

As the _Enterprise_ backed out of spacedock and turned around, Jim ordered, "Open a ship wide channel, Lieutenant Uhura."

"Yes, sir."

While she worked on that, Jim commed Engineering. "How we looking down there, Chekov?"

_"All systems nominal, Keptin."_

"Copy that."

_"Warp awailable at your command."_

"Thank you, Mr. Chekov. All right, let's ride, Sulu."

"Yes, sir." With the press of a few buttons, the _Enterprise_ smoothly jumped to warp. Jim watched the stars streak by for a second.

"Channel open, sir," Uhura interrupted his star-gazing.

Feeling the pressure of eyes on him, Jim began his speech. "Attention, crew of the _Enterprise_. As most of you know, the Daystrom Conference Room was attacked last night. Many admirals, captains, and first officers were killed or injured. Admiral Pike and Commander Spock barely escaped with their lives. The man who nearly killed them has fled our system and is hiding on the Klingon homeworld, somewhere he believes we are unwilling to go. We are on our way there now. Per Admiral Marcus, it is essential that our presence go undetected. Tensions between the Federation and the Klingon Empire have been high. Any provocation could lead to an all-out war."

Jim paused. Pike, standing to the chair's left, glanced at him, as did several other members of the bridge crew. The captain turned to look at Spock, whose gaze gave away nothing of his thoughts. The objection of Jim's crew – Spock to the morality of this mission, Scotty to the safety of those torpedoes – flitted through Jim's mind, as well as Pike's words. Turning back around, Jim came to a decision.

"I will personally lead a landing party to an abandoned city on the surface of Qo'noS where we will capture the fugitive, John Harrison, and return him to Earth so he can face judgment for his actions. All right. Let's go get this son of a bitch. Kirk out." He glanced at Pike, and was relieved when Pike only dipped his head and hobbled off.

He didn't realize Spock had moved until he was standing beside him and saying, "Captain, I believe you have made the right decision. If I can be of assistance, I would be happy to accompany you on the away team."

Jim looked up to meet Spock's gaze. "You? Happy?"

"I was simply attempting to use your vernacular to convey an idea," Spock replied seamlessly.

A tiny smile graced Jim's face before his gaze flickered to Spock's ribs. "Would Bones approve?"

"He did clear me for duty," Spock pointed out, though Jim detected the slightest hesitation in the indirect reply.

Jim gave an amused snort. "He is a mother hen. Thank you, Mr. Spock." Spock dipped his head and returned to his station.

-LLAP-

"I'm aware that I have no right to ask this of you, but please, he cannot know that I'm here."

The ship lurched to a violent halt. They both slammed into the torpedo Doctor Marcus had been scanning moments before. Spock suppressed a moan as his sore ribs took the brunt of the impact, sending a spike of fiery pain throughout his body. As soon as the ship stabilized, he returned to the bridge, struggling slightly to hide the effects of the pain.

On the bridge, Jim had been thrown out of his seat and braced himself against Sulu's console. "What happened?" he demanded, glancing around to make sure Pike was all right.

"Engineering manually dropped us out of warp, sir," Sulu reported, checking the readings flashing across his console.

Jim hit the comm. "Chekov, did you break my ship?"

_"Sorry, sir, I don't know what happened! Ze core owerheated. I had to actiwate zee emergency stop. It must be a coolant leak; I need time to find it. Sorry, Keptin."_

"Damn it," Jim muttered, ending the comm. "Mr. Sulu, time to our destination?"

"Twenty minutes, sir. But that's twenty minutes in enemy space we weren't counting on."

"All right, we better hop to it." Jim straightened and turned around, immediately noticing Spock's empty station. "Where's Spock?"

"Here, Captain," Spock said, walking onto the bridge. Bones, who had come onto the bridge a few seconds again, glanced over the Vulcan with tiny hints of suspicion. Jim noticed he looked slightly paler than normal.

"You're coming with me to Qo'noS," Jim decreed, ignoring the irritated glance Bones shot him. He looked at Uhura. "Lieutenant, how's your Klingon?"

"It's rusty, but it's good."

"Good, you're coming, too." Jim glanced between her and her boyfriend, taking a step closer. "This isn't going to be a problem, is it, you two working together?"

"Absolutely not," Uhura declared instantly, walking away with a glance at Spock. Spock looked at her and then back at Jim.

"Unclear."

Jim almost rolled his eyes. "I'll meet you in the shuttle bay."

Bones moved to his side. "You're not actually going down there, are ya? You don't rob a bank when your getaway car has a flat tire."

Jim hit the comm. on his chair. "I'm sure Engineering will have us all patched up by the time we get back. Isn't that right, Mr. Chekov?"

_"Yes, Keptin. I'll… do my best, sir."_

Jim nodded, as much at Chekov and himself as Bones. He turned around. "Mr. Sulu, you have the conn. Once we're en route, I want you to transmit a targeted comm. burst to Harrison's location. You tell him we have a bunch of real big torpedoes pointed at his head, and if he doesn't play nice, you're not afraid to use them." Sulu glanced nervously at the captain's chair. "Is that a problem?"

"No, sir. I've just never sat in the chair before."

"You're gonna do great," Jim reassured the younger man.

Bones hissed, "Jim! Wait!" as Jim started to leave the bridge again. "You just sat that man down at a high-stakes poker game with no cards and told him to bluff. Now, Sulu's a good man, but he's no captain."

"For the next two hours, he is. And enough of the metaphors, all right? That's an order." Jim turned away yet again, but Bones grabbed his arm. Beginning to grow seriously annoyed, Jim started a stinging retort, but stopped cold at Bones' next comment.

"Watch out for Spock. Whatever he says, his ribs aren't fine yet." Jim caught flickers of worry in the doctor's hazel eyes.

"I'll take care of him," Jim promised quietly. Bones reluctantly let him go. "Mr. Sulu, make sure that K'normian ship is ready to fly."

Pike observed from the edge of the bridge. McCoy grabbed Jim's arm, and whatever he said caused the irritation on his face to fade to mild concern. McCoy watched as the young man left the bridge, and then joined Pike.

"Did you tell him to be careful?" Pike inquired, feigning nonchalance.

"If I did, would it do any good?"

Pike sighed. "No. It wouldn't."

-LLAP-

Jim, Spock, and Uhura shed their Starfleet uniforms in favor of warmer civilian clothing. Jim listened with half an ear to Sulu's order over the intercom. Two security guards waited outside the ship.

"Ready to deploy, Captain," Lieutenant Hendorff (or, as Jim affectionately referred to him, Cupcake) reported.

"Lieutenants, lose the red shirts. You are K'normian arms dealers." He handed over the cases he had been carrying. "Put those on."

"Sir?"

"Look, if this thing goes south, there can be _nothing_ tying us to Starfleet. Unless, of course, you want to start a war, Mr. Hendorff?"

"No, sir," both guards replied, shooting anxious glances at each other.

"Good. Me neither."

Spock settled at the station most resembling the functions of his station aboard the _Enterprise_. Nyota stubbornly ignored him, which hurt more than he had ever thought it could. Or possibly, as humans put it, that was his ribs speaking. His heart and injured ribs were in the same place, after all. Jim gave a tiny shake of his head.

"Here," Jim said, handing Spock a small data chip. "Harrison's bio signature. Scan for it." Spock slipped it into the port on his console. Jim's gaze fluttered to his ribs, but the look was so brief Spock almost convinced himself he hadn't seen it. The captain sat and initiated the take-off sequence.

Even Spock detected the awkwardness of the silence stretching out during the first minutes of their flight. He knew it was largely due to the status of his and Nyota's relationship, but he was the last person on the shuttle to know how to break the silence. Well, maybe not.

"I am detecting a single life sign in the Ketha Province," he reported. "Given the information provided by Mr. Scott, this is most likely John Harrison."

"Mr. Sulu, I think we found our man. You let him know you mean business."

_"Aye, Captain." _A moment passed before the young pilot began. _"Attention, John Harrison. This is Captain Hikaru Sulu of the _U.S.S. Enterprise."

"I wouldn't say captain," Jim mumbled to himself.

_"A shuttle of highly trained officers is on its way to your location. If you do not surrender to them immediately, I will unleash the entire payload of advanced long-range torpedoes currently locked on to your location. You have two minutes to confirm your compliance. Refusal to do so will result in your obliteration. If you test me, you will fail."_

"I take that back," Jim mumbled. "Not even I would cross that."

"We will arrive at Harrison's location in three minutes, Captain. It is unlikely that he will come willingly," Spock warned. "I calculate the odds of him attempting to kill us at 91.6%."

"Fantastic," Jim observed sarcastically.

"Good thing you don't care about dying," Nyota said bitterly.

"I am sorry, Lieutenant. I could not hear what you said," Spock retorted.

"I didn't say anything." Then she added, "Actually, I'd be happy to speak if you're willing to listen to me."

"Guys," Jim protested.

"Lieutenant, I would prefer to discuss this in private."

"You'd prefer not to discuss this at all," she shot back.

"Our current circumstances," Spock persisted.

"Are you really gonna do this right now?" Jim protested.

"What never seems to require your undivided focus – I'm sorry, Captain, just two seconds."

"Ok."

"-is us. At that volcano, or in that conference room, you didn't give a thought to us. What it would do to me if you died, Spock. You didn't feel anything. You didn't care," Nyota accused. Jim bit back a comment about the emotions he'd seen in Spock's face at the conference room. This wasn't his fight.

"And I'm not the only one who's upset with you. The Captain is, too."

"No, no, no," Jim said instantly. "Don't drag me into this." Then, "She is right."

"Your suggestion that I do not care about dying is incorrect," Spock murmured. "A sentient being's optimal chance at maximizing their utility is a long and prosperous life." Spock silently cursed that overtly Vulcan, emotionless wording as Nyota and Jim muttered their own comments.

"Great."

"Not exactly a love song, Spock."

"You misunderstand," Spock persisted. "On the day my planet was destroyed, I heard the death cries of nearly six billion Vulcans mere moments after watching my mother, the only person who cared about me for the first two decades of my life, fall to her death. You both know I experienced what any human would feel at a similar moment: Anger, confusion, loneliness… Fear. The fear of being alone in a universe where I am despised for an ancestry I cannot control. Despite what anyone may believe, that fear has been there for as long as I can remember. She was the only one I trusted with the emotions I have always been condemned for having. Since her death, I have found two people whom I trust. You make it easier for me to live. Upon realizing my own life was ending, I chose not to feel because it would make it easier for you to let me go. Nyota, you mistake my choice not to feel as a reflection of my not caring, while I assure you, the truth is precisely the opposite."

Spock felt Jim's and the security guards' gazes upon him, but he only cared about Nyota. The seats only allowed him a glimpse of her face, but her eyes were closed, her head tilted towards him, and a glowing grin suggested she was basking in his words.

The shuttle jolted from a sudden impact. A tiny noise of pain escaped from Spock, but it was easily drowned out by Jim's shout of, "What the hell was that?"

"We are being pursued by a D-4 class Klingon vessel," Spock reported.

"I thought this sector was abandoned!"

"It must be a random patrol," Nyota replied.

"Hold on!" Jim warned. Spock's ribs protested against Jim's wild maneuvers.

"This ship has no offensive capability," he cautioned through gritted teeth.

"It's got us," Jim pointed out. "Give me all six fuel cells."

"Yes, Captain."

Jim's maneuvers grew increasingly wilder. Several near-misses jolted the small craft. Spock shifted uncomfortably, shoving the pain out of the forefront of his mind and focusing on aiding Jim in any way he could – barely.

"Damn it," Jim hissed when a shot landed on the shuttle. Black spots swam in Spock's vision for half a second.

"They're closing fast, bearing 285," Nyota shouted.

"All right, there! There! We can lose 'em there," Jim shouted triumphantly.

"If you are suggesting we utilize the passage between the approaching structures, this ship will not fit," Spock cautioned breathlessly.

"We'll fit," Jim insisted.

"Captain, we will not fit."

"We'll fit, we'll fit!" Jim exclaimed as he turned the ship onto its side just in time to slip into the passage. The Klingon vessel pulled to an abrupt halt behind them. Spock clenched his hands around his console as Nyota gave a little scream behind him.

Then they were free. Jim straightened the ship out. His eyes were wide and his chest heaved as he said, "I told ya we'd fit."

"I am not sure that qualifies," Spock muttered.

"Any sign of them?" Jim asked, his tone calmer. Spock breathed through the pain and focused on the readouts on his console.

"No," Nyota replied. "Which worries me."

"We lost them."

"Or they're jamming our scanners."

"Or we lost them," Jim insisted.

A foreboding shadow made Jim pull the ship up. One spotlight flickered to life, then a second one, and then a third one. A voice giving orders in Klingon spoke over the intercom. The four men waited for Nyota to translate.

"They're ordering us to land. Captain, they're going to want to know why we're here. And they're going to torture us. Question us. And they're going to kill us."

Jim resisted the urge to look at his crew; he would _not_ let that happen to them. "So we come out shooting."

Uhura slipped out of her safety harness and stood beside him. "We're outnumbered, outgunned. There's no way we survive if we attack first. You brought me here because I speak Klingon. _Then let me speak Klingon_."

Spock looked round at the woman who had, to use a human phrase, stolen his heart. Jim nodded his reluctant permission and landed the ship. Her eyes briefly met his before she exited the craft. Spock tracked her, never letting his gaze stray too far from her.

"This isn't going to work," Jim muttered apprehensively.

"It is our only logical option," Spock pointed out. "And if you interrupt her now, you will not only incur the wrath of the Klingons, but that of Lieutenant Uhura as well."

Jim glanced at him as if to ascertain whether he was joking or not.

Spock could feel the tension inside the shuttle. "What the hell are they saying?" Jim muttered.

"Not even I can hear them, Captain, and even if I could, I would be unable to translate."

"So what's the point of those pointy ears?" Jim snorted. Spock refused to dignify that with a response. As one Klingon took a few steps closer to Nyota, Jim rushed over to a storage compartment and pulled out three disruptors. Spock glanced at the one Jim set down beside him but, unlike the humans, he did not pick it up. He returned his gaze to Nyota, feeling his own apprehension churning in his gut.

He tensed minutely as the Klingon's hand took hold of Nyota's neck. Jim growled under his breath. None of them noticed the dagger slowly being slid out of its sheath. They did, however, notice the bright red phaser fire that began striking down the Klingons. Spock snatched up his disruptor and followed Jim out of the ship, firing to defend Nyota. She yanked the dagger away from the Klingon and stabbed him where no man of any species should be stabbed. The Klingon only had moments to feel the pain before the mysterious shooter took him out.

They attempted to remain grouped together, but the sheer number of Klingons forced them apart. Spock moved warily through the ruins, shooting at any Klingon he spotted. He searched for Jim and Nyota. The dust, the scattered ruins, the shouts, and the flashes of light all reminded Spock of the conference room. The Vulcan quickly pushed the memory from his mind.

A swish of long hair captured his attention. He caught a glimpse of Nyota flinging herself down into the shelter of an overhang. She looked around and locked onto him. Spock glanced around to ensure the coast was clear before cautiously rising, holding his disruptor out.

"Spock!" Nyota shouted.

The blunt edge of a bat'leth knocked Spock's disruptor out of his hands with enough force to knock Spock to the ground.

* * *

><p>AN: Ok, long, but not really full of action or even that much h/c. Sorry. This part was supposed to be a lot shorter, allowing for more action in this chapter, but my typing fingers had other plans, it seems. Plus, I couldn't not write the humor – the first couple chapters weren't the happiest, after all. Unlike _some_ writers (*cough* Moffat *cough*), I'm not out to shatter your hearts. Completely.


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